Sirius
by PhoenixPadfoot89
Summary: Harry is alone and depressed... missing Sirius...about to commit suicide. Rated for suicidal thoughts.


Harry was sitting on his small bed in number 4, Privet Drive, staring wistfully at the ceiling. The sky was as dark and gray as it had ever been, and it seemed to reflect Harry's mood. The air outside was cold, not chilly by temperature, but cold, filled with feelings of hurt and depression.

He no longer cared. He didn't care about the Prophecy. He didn't care about Voldemort. He didn't care about his friends. He didn't care about himself. He didn't care about Sirius.

But this was not true. He kept telling himself that he did not care, but his heart screamed that he did.  

He hated his life. Just as he had said in Dumbledore's office, he didn't want to be human. Not if it means that you have to always play the hero. Not if it means you have to lead your friends to danger. Not if it means you have to defeat Voldemort, according to a prophecy. Not if it meant that Sirius was gone…

Sirius. His only fatherly figure. Gone. _He was not dead_. Harry told himself. _Just…gone.__ Gone forever. _

" Gone. Argg! Who am I kidding? He's… he's DEAD!" With an angry cry, Harry screamed the last word, finally admitting it to himself. He had been denying that Sirius was dead up until now. 

" HE'S DEAD! Sirius, why did you have to leave me? Come back!" Harry cried to the ceiling in the small bedroom, which did not answer him back. His face was growing hot from anger and despair. He hated the world. Nothing could make that gnawing, hurt feeling in his heart go away. He felt as though Sirius had sawed his heart in half, then ate the pieces. 

" I needed you. I still need you! Why did you have to go? Come back to me." Harry whispered. Most of his anger had evaporated, and was replaced with hurt. " I love you, Sirius. Did you love me? Did you die saving me?" 

_No, _Harry told himself_, he died because of me. Everyone is in danger when I'm around. Everyone I love and care for will die, and it's all my fault. Everyone hates me._

Harry began to sob, without shedding tears. He had not actually cried since his first year, and he hadn't had the strength, the hope, to cry recently. To cry, you must have strength and love. Right now, he felt that he had none of that. 

"Everyone hates me. All I ever do is get people killed. Mum, Dad, Sirius, Cedric, Bertha Jenkins, that Frank guy…" Harry gulped. His head was swarming with thoughts, most of them angsty, and he wished he had a pensieve.

" I… I don't deserve to live." He told himself, not really believing it at first. Harry tried to convince himself that this was true.

" I… I get my friends in danger all of the time, yet they still hang around with me. I don't deserve that. I get my parents killed because of a stupid prophecy. I was the one who's blood was used to bring Voldemort back. I… I led Sirius to his death. I as good as killed him." 

He stared out at the sky, which was dark and gray from the night; it was about half an hour till dawn, and the sky looked as dismal as Harry felt. It seemed to be grieving with him. 

Harry had become convinced. He didn't deserve to live. He didn't deserve to see the sun rise.

Harry made up his mind in an instant on how to do it. He rushed to his trunk, and pulled out his wand. He remembered for a fleeing instant what Mr. Olivander had said: " We can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. After all, he-who-must-not-be-named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Harry felt that he was not great at all. His presence had ruined so many lives. He felt that the things that he had done were terrible. 

He looked, slightly unsure, at the wand in his shaky hand. He had to do it. To save his friends' lives. He was too much of a danger to them. He had to do it for Sirius.

" Sirius, I wish you hadn't died!! I need you! I can't live with myself! I'll see you soon, Sirius." Harry said plainly to the window, where the sky, if possible, had grown even more darker.

He rose the wand…

…. Not noticing the animal soaring through the sky toward his window, gleaming in the still, cold, despairing dark as a beacon of hope…

Harry gulped. This was his last chance. He had to do it. For Sirius. Sirius hated him for killing him, Harry was sure.…

He pointed 11 and1/2 inches of Holly wand with a phoenix feather inside to his scar, and took a deep breath….

… staring cross eyed at the wand, he did not see his window open noiselessly…

_" Avada-"_ at these words, Harry could feel the magic in his wand collecting, and beginning to form the deadly, sickly, green light that gave him the scar. The light that ruined his life and the lives of millions of others…

_"-Ked-" His_ life was flashing before him. First came the happy memories, some he didn't even know he had. He remembered playing with his parents as a baby. He remembered freeing Sirius…riding on a broom for the first time… All of the happiest moments of Harry's life formed a cloud in his mind, as each one flashed in his eyes.

Then, the all too short list of happy memories was over. Next came the longer list of misery.  

…Umbridge…The third task…Half the Wizarding world believing him a crazy attention-seeker…Cedric dying…Ginny almost dying… Sirius dying… and the worst memory that he didn't ever remember seeing fully before… _his Mother dying_.

Suddenly, when he saw that, somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice told him to stop! His mother died for him, and he was going to kill himself?

But the rest of the brain told the stupid little voice to shut up. He deserved this, and it was almost too late.

_" –__avr-"_ Harry was about to say the last letter, the letter that would end his life, when something caught his eye… or rather… warmed his heart.

_Phoenix__ song._

This phoenix song, seemingly from no where at first, enflamed his heart. And this song was unlike any he had heard from Fawks. It seemed… even more unearthly… like it was from somewhere so…pure. He didn't really want to die… this music gave him comfort…warmth…love… This was not music… this was just the feeling… of love.

He never finished that last syllable. Turning around, looking for the source of the wonderful music… forgetting momentarily that he was trying to kill himself, he saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

There was a phoenix standing at his bed, but this phoenix was _gold!_ It seemed so… pure and simply good… like it was from another place entirely… another world… and it was huge! The only part of it's feathers that was not gold was a little red streak right over the top of it's head…and there was a note attached to it's leg.

Harry looked at it, and it simply stared back at him, so he assumed that the message was for him. He gently walked up to the phoenix and streaked it's gold feathers… and he felt the most peculiar sensation… he felt more then love… it had to be… it was so strong! He felt as though there was nothing but this love everywhere in the world.  It was comforting and strengthing… but the strangest thing was that he felt that he recognized the phoenix… but he had never seen it before… or had he?

He pulled his had back, and saw that the phoenix was still staring at him, with a sad  and caring look in it's eyes. He took the note from the phoenix's leg, but it did not leave immeadtly.

After a quick glance at the majestic bird, he opened the letter:

Harry;

I am truly sorry. I know that I have caused you pain. I am sorry for leaving you. I haven't an idea how you must feel. I miss you terribly, and my heart aches, as I'm sure yours does.

But, my death is not your fault. I would have come to rescue you if you had gotten your head stuck in between the beds in your dorm. I love you Harry. You know that. It is not your fault that I have gone. It is my cousin's.  It is also mine.

Dumbledore told me to stay at my house, but I did not follow his directions. I knew that I could have, and probably would have, died. But, I did not want you do die. Not just because of the stupid prophecy. Because you are my godson and I care for you with all of my heart. I would do anything, give anything, just so that you were alright.

That is why I had to leave you, when I know that, as you have just said, you need me. I left so that you could live. Don't go feeling guilty about that. The whole Order would have died for you. We all took the risk. 

I cannot come back. I am torn between two worlds. I watched with pain and agony when you confronted Nearly-Headless Nick, to ask if I would become a ghost. He was right. I am not afraid of death. I went to the Department of Mysteries, almost knowing that I was going to die. Don't ask how, I just knew. And… when I was in Azkaban, thoughts of death came to me every day. Sometimes, when the dementors were extremely close, I wished I would die. I was not afraid. The only thing that kept me sane, that kept me alive, was _you. _

I love you, Harry, and always will. I do not blame you for my death. Also, I've wanted to see James and Lily for years. I have missed them. I must admit, ( it is impossible to lie here anyway) that when I first met you, I saw a whole lot of  James in you. I thought you would be exactually like him. You may look the same, but you're not. You are more mature, more prepared, and… sorry, James, but… a better person.

Now, onto another topic: what were you thinking, Harry? OF COURSE you deserve to live! If anyone deserves to live, it's you!! Who was it that defeated Voldemort, thus saving thousands of lives at the age of one? Who saved the Sorcerer's stone from Voldemort, so that he couldn't take over once again? Who saved my life, rescuing me from a dementors kiss by breaking the law, and risking getting caught and sent to prison? Who saved Ginny Weasley's life, while risking your own, in the Chamber of Secrets?

The way you feel about me dying, actually, now that I think about it, is like the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny was in trouble. You went to save her. Suppose you didn't come out alive, but miraculously, Ginny did? How do you think Ginny would feel? Wouldn't you be saying the same thing to her as I am to you? If our shoes were switched in the Department of Mysteries, would you not have done the same for me?

_You do not deserve to die! _Not at_ all! _You are the braves, most caring, most wonderful person I have ever had the fortune to meet. I died to save you, because I love you. Does that answer some of your questions?

Everyone does not hate you, Harry. In fact, the only people that I can think of that really hate you are Death Eaters and Voldemort. Maybe Severus Snape. Your friends love you, _because_ you are caring and heroic and kind and generous. Remember that, Harry. Never forget. Do not mourn for me for too long. I will always be there for you, no matter where I am. Try to be happy. Do it for me, Harry.

I must leave now. Remember all that I have said. I love you. We all do. I don't expect for you to see me for many years.

Good-by,  my godson, Harry Potter

Love;

Padfoot

June 27, 1995. 

12 minutes before dawn.

Harry's eyes glazed over as he looked up from the letter. When he looked up, he saw his small mirror in front of his bed. His mournful face was staring into it, his emerald eyes misty and full of water.

Suddenly, he took a good hard look at his baggy, sleepless eyelids, his almost permanent frown, and his eyes, which no longer glistened. Instead, they were full of dark storm clouds.

Is that what I look like? He asked himself. Sirius is right. I should try to be happy. He tried a smiled. A real smile, not a sneer, or one that didn't reach his eyes.

His genuine smile was bright and cheerful, and he _meant_ it. He was still a little sad, but actually happy. Sirius was right. I _do_ deserve to live. I have done so many things. People need me, just as I said that I needed Sirius.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the letter was authentic. It was from Sirius. There could be no other way. 

Then, on intuition, looking down at the letter again, he saw a ps that he had missed.

Ps. James sends his love. Lily was actually aloud to show you her love  down there… 

 Harry turned to the phoenix, who looked at Harry, and seeing that he was happy, smiled as best as a phoenix could. Harry and the gold phoenix stared at eachother once more, almost as though they were having a conversation without words. Just feelings of love and concern and contentment. 

Without warning, the phoenix took off into the air and flew out of Harry's window, and out into the dawn, where the sky was painted with light, soft pastel colors of reds and golds, and fluffy white clouds cushioned the sun as if they were pillows. As the gold phoenix flew higher and higher into the heavens, until it seemed to disappear in the bright orange, just rising sun that seemed to welcome it home, Harry reflected the things that had just happened… Sirius' letter… the feeling that he got when he looked at the phoenix… how Sirius cared about him, but most of all….the ps on the letter, and how the gold phoenix, with a touch of red feathers on it's head almost as if it were hair, had the same exact dazzling emerald eyes as he did.

**~~~~~*~~~~~**

Did you like it? Please tell me you did! I'm actually crying while typing this. Well, it was sad for me. Tell me what you think, I really want to know! I'm not sure if I'm good at these kinds of stories.

Oh, and Have a Very Harry Birthday, J.K. Rowling!


End file.
